Halved
by thegenuineimitation
Summary: "You are him, a perfect duplicate, an exact match except for the fact that you aren't MY Arthur," M/A. Slash.
1. Prologue: The Deal

**Halved**

**Prologue: The Deal**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Merlin.

**Author's Note:** Alright, well, for those of you who read _What Is and What May Never Be _this is the chaptered fic I was talking about (if you haven't read _What Is and What May Never Be_, please do *winks*) but due to popular demand I'll probably end up continuing WIaWMNB, so stay tuned for that.

For those of you who don't know me (probably the majority), I update the second I have enough material for a decent chapter. Sometimes there'll be two updates in a night, sometimes there won't be anything for weeks. This is because on top of having a finicky muse I'm also a University student and homework comes first (alas!). Fair warning!

WARNING: Slash (M/M), violence, suggestive themes and potential lemons (maybe, still iffy on this one). Not for the kiddies!

If any of the above offends you please feel free to click the back button.

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The lower levels of the castle were cold, dark, and unwelcoming, but that didn't deter the slight figure in an expensive black velvet cape from striding down the dusty halls, her footsteps echoing with sharp authoritative clacks. At the end of the corridor was a heavy iron door etched up and down with strange runes and sigils of the Old Religion.

The guards snorted and woke at the sound of her approach.

"L-Lady Gertrude," stuttered the one snapping up instantly and offering a low bow, kicking his fellow in the side to get the younger man to do the same.

"I'm here to see Wendolin,"

"Of course, milady," the guard said hastening to unlock the door.

It took the two of them together to push the door open.

"Alone," the woman ordered sharply as the guard made to follow her into the dimly lit room.

The guard hesitated but bowed and murmured a quick, "Of course, milady," when it looked like the woman was going to get testy.

The door clanged shut behind her and the key scraped in the lock. Gertrude crossed the red line painted on the floor signifying the edge of the wards and approached the big table littered with books and papers in the centre of the small, dark, cold, but comfortable appointed cell.

"Uncle," Gertrude greeted softly.

The hunched figure at the table looked up the blanket falling from his shoulders as he stood revealing a stick thin old man with salt and pepper hair. One side of his face has handsome wrinkled by laugh lines and too much sun, and set with a jewel-bright blue eye, the other looked like melted candle wax the veins black and prominent against his too pale skin, the eye was a reptilian yellow-green with a slitted pupil.

"Gertrude," hissed the man silkily, "It has been far too long,"

"I have nothing to say to you, Beast! This is a personal matter and I will speak to my uncle!" snapped Gertrude.

"Tsk, tsk, so bossy...and that temper..."

"Now, Beast!"

"As milady commands," hissed the man bowing mockingly.

He froze for a brief moment and then took a great gulp of air, coughing slightly.

"Uncle Wendolin," smiled Gertrude happily.

"Gertie, my dove, what's troubling you?" asked the man in a soft comforting tenor.

"Oh, Uncle!" cried Gertrude abandoning her composure and throwing herself into the old man's waiting arms.

"There, there now, my dove, tell me, what's wrong?"

"Father and I are returning to Camelot for the annual Beltane festival, he says it's my last chance to win Prince Arthur before he marries me off to Lord Poll," Gertrude sobbed clutching at the front of Wendolin's robes.

"Then you have nothing to worry for, dove, for you are the most beautiful blossom in all of Arcen,"

Gertrude sniffed a little and giggled.

"Flatterer," she accused blinking her watery eye becomingly.

"There she is, my smiling niece," said Wendolin fondly erasing tear tracks with the pads of his thumbs.

"That's all very touching Wendolin, really, I may be sick," hissed the Beast suddenly interrupting, "But the little spitfire won't win the Prince of Camelot on her looks alone,"

"What would you know of it!" spat Gertrude indignantly.

"Any magical creature who knows the Fate of Arthur Pendragon knows that he already has a soulmate,"

"A what?"

"A soulmate. His other half, the one that completes him, his greatest friend, ally, and love," hissed the Beast mockingly, "It's disgusting, their devotion,"

"But...that makes no sense. Prince Arthur is yet unmarried, surely if he'd found this person they would be married immediately,"

"Denial, is such a wonderfully dark, penetrating emotion...like fear," sighed the Beast in obvious pleasure.

"I am sorry, my dearest dove, but Lord Poll is kind, despite his lack of brains or good looks, and his estate is rich and prosperous. He will be good to you," said Wendolin laying a consoling hand on his niece's shoulder.

"But I love Arthur! There must be a way, some way to make him forget about this soulmate! I know I could make him love me!"

"There is a way..."hedged the Beast slyly.

"No Beast!" Wendolin snapped.

"Don't you want your dearest, precious, little niecey-poo to be a happy little princess, Wen?"

"This is not the way!" bellowed Wendolin.

"Oh shut up, Wen. Get back in your box if you're not going to behave,"

Wendolin's body shuddered slightly and his blue eye rolled up into the back of his head the lid drooping to half cover it.

Gertrude took a small step back, she'd never been alone with the Beast in full control before.

"Well, little spitfire, what say you?"

"What could you do?" asked Gertrude hesitantly.

The Beast broke into a slow, evil, grin.

"I can break the bond between them, a simple little spell for one such as I, the tricky part will be getting rid of the Emrys at such a distance," hissed the Beast licking his lips in anticipation.

"Wait, no! 'Get rid of,' you mean kill don't you!"

"The only way to ensure the soul bond stays broken is to separate its halves, in this case the Prince and the Emrys. If they encounter each other after the spell is cast, even if they do not know, remember or recognize each other, the bond will simply re-form in a couple of days,"

Gertrude bit her lip.

"You could send her away, far away enough that she could never get back," she said in a small voice.

"Perhaps...it would be difficult, and I would require something from you in return..." the Beast hedged.

"What?" asked Gertrude warily.

"Energy, life force with which to fuel the spell," said the Beast promptly.

"I...I- I have to think..." said Gertrude chewing nervously on her lip and turning her back on the Beast.

The Beast came up behind her, grabbing her shoulders gently and whispering in her ear. Gertrude stiffened.

"If you don't make this bargain, you'll never have the Prince," he hissed.

The Beast took a long sniff of her hair and sighed with obvious satisfaction.

Gertrude jerked away from him.

"Don't you dare touch me!" she growled.

"Such fire, one day Gertrude, I will use all that fire to burn you alive," hissed the Beast.

Gertrude shuddered, hugging herself tightly and glaring at the Beast who held her gaze steadily. After a long moment she looked away.

"You will sever the bond between Arthur and Emrys, and separate them by distance, you will take from me only the energy absolutely necessary for these purposes," Gertrude said shakily, "Do we have a deal?"

"Agreed," hissed the Beast, "Now we seal the bargain,"

He moved faster than Gertrude's eyes could follow and clasped his mouth on hers in a bruising kiss. Gertrude struggled, but the Beast held her in a grip like a vice and Gertrude felt herself growing steadily weaker the longer the kiss stretched on. Finally the Beast released her and she slumped to the floor her legs too weak to hold her.

The small cell lit with green-yellow light as the torch and single candle flared with magic fire. The Beast seemed to grow out of her uncle's body, the ruined half of his face becoming coated with black scales and his fingers lengthening into wicked talons. A long forked tongue lolled from a mouth filled with fangs twisting to form silibant words that made Gertrude shudder weakly, her skin crawling as the oily feeling of the Beast's magic skated over her skin.

Both eyes flashed mottled black and red and with a roar of sudden wind and a crack like a whip the spell was cast.

The sickly aura faded away slowly, Wendolin's body returning to normal and shuddering with aftershocks of excitement.

"It is done," hissed the Beast languidly.

Gertrude nodded and heaved herself to her feet by sheer force of will, shuddering, shivering, and wobbling.

"Guards!" Gertrude called thankful that her voice was steadier than her legs.

She was so tired.

The clang of the heavy door signalled the arrival of the guards and Gertrude brushed passed them without a backward glance and fled the dungeons as fast as her shaky legs could carry her.

"Good luck, spitfire," hissed the mocking voice of the Beast before his cell door was slammed shut.

"You had no right to do that!" bellowed Wendolin a moment later his blue eye flashing with anger.

"It's what she wanted, she set out the terms of the deal," hissed the Beast.

"And I'm sure she knows that separating soulmates for too long kills them both!" snapped Wendolin sarcastically.

The Beast shrugged and grinned in malicious satisfaction.

"She'll just have to work quickly then, won't she,"

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**AN:** There you have it folks!

This is the part where you review because I _love _hearing from you, even to rant about such and such a thing! I appreciate all questions, comments, and suggestions on plot and supplementary pairings, the more you talk to me the more likely I am to be bent to your every will and whim!


	2. Chapter 1: The Dream

**Halved**

**Chapter One: The Dream**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Merlin.

**Author's Note:** Okay so the majority of this chapter is a Dream Sequence and done in _italics, _it's meant to be how Merlin's sleeping mind interperets the spell the Beast cast, everything not in italics really happened in the physical world...tell me if it's too confusing...

Many thanks to everyone who reviewed, alerted, and/or favorited!

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_Merlin stood on the battlements of the North Tower and looked down at the city of Camelot. He easily recognized the little house that belonged to Gwen in the Lower Town and the tavern that the majority of Arthur's knights frequented. _

_Something was wrong. Merlin shivered uneasily. The city was deserted, there was no movement whatsoever when at this time in the late afternoon it should be bustling. Merlin turned his eyes to the nearest of the crofters' cottages outside Camelot's walls. Nothing stirred. Neither man, nor beast...not even a whispery breath of wind. _

_It was too quiet. The silence weighed on Merlin like a too heavy cloak. _

_Merlin saw a slight motion out of the corner of his eye and whipped around, squinting and shielding his eyes in an attempt to see past the too bright sun. He murmured a word and his eyes flashed briefly gold, and Merlin saw it. _

_It was a wall of roiling, sickly, green-yellow fog and malicious intent and it was sweeping across the land from the West, heading straight for Camelot._

_Merlin's once-again-blue eyes widened and he turned tail and fled the battlements. He needed to fid Arthur and get them out of Camelot immediately. Merlin knew instinctively that he didn't want to face off with whomever or whatever had conjured that evil fog. _

_Merlin raced through the empty, silent corridors of the castle his footsteps echoing, reverberating and unnaturally loud against the polished stone as he hurtled along abnormally long hallways, took hairpin turns, and used magic to cushion his landings as he vaulted over banisters and dropped past three flights of stairs._

_The castle had become a huge maze. Walls appeared where they had never been before, doors melted out of existence one moment and back into it the next, staircases he ran down often brought him back up a level, though not always, and there were all of a sudden many more floors than the castle could possibly contain. _

_Merlin could feel Arthur though. He could feel the Prince's presence in his very bones. A constant little nudge in the proper direction._

_The fog continued its advance, getting steadily closer every time Merlin dared a glance out the window towards the setting sun, now obscured by the noxious stuff. _

_Camelot grew steadily darker and Merlin conjured a glowing silver-gold witchlight to hover above his head and light his way, and also to dissuade the fog that pressed up against the walls and windows, swirling threateningly. _

_Merlin turned the corner, his boots skidding slightly on the well polished floors before he recovered his balance. He found himself dashing a long a very familiar hallway his heart racing in time with the insistent tugging on his soul. _

_He was almost there!_

_As he sprinted past them the windows lining the corridor shattered spectacularly one by one, littering the floor with tiny shards. The fog poured into the castle, thick and menacing, and slithered down the corridor after the fleeing warlock. _

"_Faster! Faster!" Merlin urged himself pushing his burning lungs and legs just a little bit more. _

_He reached Arthur's door and rather than fumbling with the handle or unlocking it delicately by magic, he snapped out a harsh command and blasted it into ash. _

_Before Merlin could take more than a few running steps into Arthur's chambers, where the Prince slept on obliviously a slight frown creasing his brow, the fog swirled lazily around his ankles and swiftly tugged his legs out from under him. _

"_No!" cried Merlin, desperately clawing at the smooth stone of the floor with blunt nails as the fog dragged him into its midst. _

_It pressed tight against him swirling up against him and clogging up his nose and ears even as he shut his eyes. It coated his skin in burning hostile magic as if it was boiling oil. _

_Merlin screamed loud and long in pure white-hot agony. _

"_ARTHUR!"_

_Something tore apart agonizingly slowly inside of him and Merlin reached out blindly with his magic. The fog tried to tug Merlin away from Camelot, away from Arthur. Arthur who Merlin could no longer feel. _

_Merlin dug in with his magic, eyes glowing burning gold as he anchored himself to the very stones of Camelot, seeped in dragon-magic as they were he held fast even as the fog ripped, and tore, and pulled and roiled in fury when he remained unmoved. _

_With another wave of raw magic Merlin burst through the muffling fog and reached, stretched as far as he could go searching for Arthur's familiar presence. _

_A spark..._

_There! _

_Merlin pulled and magic poured out of him in a blaze that incinerated the fog whipping around him uncontrollably until all traces of it were banished. _

_

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_

**Elsewhere**

A dark haired young waif arched up off his bed and wailed, a horrible high, keening cry that spoke of pain and loss as something so precious to him and so integral to his being was torn from him with such force.

He sat bolt upright in bed drenched in cold sweat, his eyes glowing gold as he reached, both physically, his fingers curling repeatedly around air, and with magic, as it flowed out of him in uncontained waves, searching...

He felt it. The presence was faint and smothered or muffled somehow but familiar and he wrapped his very being around it and yanked as hard as he could with all the strength of his not inconsiderable power.

The presence was pulled free and like a rubber band being released the dark haired young man felt the full force of the magical backlash slam into him. Like a puppet with its strings cut the man wilted back into his bed.

His left hand landed limply on a bare, masculine chest, directly above the heart.

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**Arcen**

The Beast hissed, flinching as he was swamped with the remnants of angry golden magic.

"It appears Emrys didn't like that," chuckled Wendolin as the Beast snarled and retreated further into his host, away from the searching burning whorls of magic.

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**AN:** I hate the formatting for this chapter, and the fact that it's so short but there's no good way to do it and I've tried to make it easy for you all to understand what's going on. Here's hoping I've been good enough for reviews!


	3. Chapter 2: Rude Awakenings Part One

**Halved**

**Chapter Two: Rude Awakenings Part One**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Merlin. Alas.

**Author's Note**: Woo Hoo! Update! Yeah! *Cheers and Happy Dances* Hopefully you're all as happy about this update as I am, it only took forever and a day! Okay so this is part one of four of the Rude Awakenings and I have at least half of the next two chapters in mind so hopefully the next update will be sooner. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, alerted, or favourited! Please Enjoy!

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*Bee-Bee-Bee-Bip*

*Bee-Bee-B-*

The annoying blaring of the alarm clock was silenced with an outstretched hand and a flash of gold. It died with a pathetic little fizzle, the flashing green numbers reading 8:30 going dark.

Merlin's head pounded and his stomach roiled. He blinked to clear the spots from his vision and sat up slowly. Next to him Arthur shifted slightly in his sleep burying his face deeper into his pillow. Merlin smiled slightly as the blond snored softly, a smile that turned into a grimace as a stab of pain shot through the space behind his eyes. Careful not to disturb the other man Merlin slipped out of bed and into the kitchen.

The early morning sun was filtering in through the windows despite the fact that it was typically overcast, giving the still half asleep warlock enough light to see by without subjecting himself to the pain of turning on the lights.

A negligent wave of his hand and flash of gold later the kettle had arranged itself on the stovetop and the burner had been flicked on. As a large blue mug unhooked itself from the rack and the dented little tin sugar dish slid across the counter and began spooning copious amounts of its contents into the mug Merlin wandered into the bathroom.

He cursed fluently and creatively as he tripped and just barely caught himself on the edge of the counter. Merlin scowled and rolled his eyes as he bent and picked up the fluffy towel that had been left in a careless heap on the bathroom floor. With a flick of his wrist he sent it sailing neatly into the hamper. Typical Arthur, the man would never get used to the idea that he had to pick up after himself.

He turned and rummaged in the cupboard for a minute pushing aside little vials and numerous teeth cleaning essentials until he found the extra strength Advil at which point he popped two pills into his mouth and drank from the tap to wash them down.

Merlin quickly brushed his teeth, relieved himself, and returned to the kitchen in time to watch the kettle finish pouring itself and the sugar dish glide back into place. He set the timer on the stove for two minutes and, taking a step onto the air as if it was an invisible stool, reached up into one of the top pantry cupboards for the soda crackers.

He never should have agreed to sample Morgana's cooking. She was almost as bad as Arthur, who turned boiling water into a production, and relied on her patient and undoubtedly skilled roommate Gwen to keep her from wasting away. Now he was paying the price for his politeness. Gods, he hadn't felt this sick since that incident with the sushi.

He glanced at the crackers lying innocently on the little blue plate and winced as the mere thought of putting one in his mouth made his stomach burble and flip warningly. Merlin knew from experience though that once he got a few into his stomach he'd start to feel better. So he ignored his gut's violent protests and nibbled off a corner of the nearest cracker.

The timer beeped and Merlin rose to turn it off and take the teabag out of his mug. He took a cautious sip of his sweet tea and the warmth flooding his innards made him feel almost instantly better. His magically high metabolism and slight stature ensured that the Advil was kicking in; the stabbing pains behind his eyes had faded to a dull constant throbbing.

Merlin took his tea and his crackers and slumped into the window nook, thanking whoever cared enough to listen that it was Saturday, and watched the city bustle about its business.

It was two hours and an entire tube of crackers before Merlin was feeling more himself. So, deciding he'd sat around wallowing in his misery long enough, he returned to the kitchen and flicked on the radio. He left it at low volume so it wouldn't wake Arthur just yet. Arthur Pendragon could be incredibly tolerant, patient, and grateful, Merlin licked his lips as he grabbed some bacon from the fridge remembering the last time the blond had been grateful...yum, but he was none of these things before ten o'clock on a Saturday morning.

Merlin set his biggest pan on the stove turned on the heat and started tossing items in first the sausage and bacon, enough to satisfy even Arthur, then the eggs with cheese. He set the table and added two cups of sugary tinned mixed fruit for good measure.

Merlin hummed absently along with the radio as he moved the eggs around in the pan and thought about Arthur. He still thought the blond was crazy for leaving his father's McMansion to live with him in his flat while they attended Cambridge together.

Arthur blamed Morgana.

It was true the beautiful and entirely too mouthy brunette had been kicked out of the house and had decided to live with her school-friend Gwen and had eventually gotten into a serious relationship with Gwen's brother Elyan. Then Morgana introduced Gwen and Lancelot, who were already planning their wedding or so it seemed to everyone. Merlin had already been half in love with Arthur and with their friends pairing off left, right and centre they were often thrown together. Then one day Arthur up and declared out of the blue that he was moving in with Merlin, without consulting him, and after a huge fight with Uther had packed his bags and turned up on Merlin's doorstep with three bags and a scowl.

Not even a month later Arthur confessed that the reason he'd moved out of his father's house was because he was 19 legally an adult and had seen no reason not to do and love whoever and whatever her wanted. He'd then proceeded to confess he wanted Merlin.

Merlin had of course raised an eyebrow at Arthur arrogance and informed him that he was very lucky he was so good-looking because he was a prat with no sense of romance. He'd then kissed the blond soundly and invited him to move out of the living room.

It had been two years since that day and Merlin had yet to regret the decision. As it turned out, although Arthur had about the same capacity for romance as a lump of wood, the clot pole actually loved him with such a fierce intensity that it took his breath away and had on occasion made him cry like a five year old girl.

The toast popped up jolting Merlin from his reminiscing. He prodded the eggs with his spatula to make sure they were cooked all the way through and served them up.

_"You're listening to 103.5, and this is Em in the A.M. Stay tuned for traffic and weather at eleven. Next up we have Jet and 'Are You Gonna Be My Girl'"_

Merlin grinned and spun the volume up to max, it was time for Arthur to get his butt out of bed anyway and this was his favourite song.

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**AN:** Alright guys, leave me a review let me know what you think!


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